go.
” Elly desperately searched for Joy. Where was she? Why didn’t she hurry? The scent of flowers faded. Elly recalled the tingling bite of Russ’s aftershave and the smooth upholstery beneath the palm of her hand.
“Come on. We’d better get a move on or we’ll be late to the field.”
Elly spun, hiding her face. Her cast bumped her crutches, and they clattered to the tile floor. She reached for them, forcing down the panic in her throat. As she righted herself, her hazel eyes met Russ’s green ones. The image of Kathy Rowan flared between them. They both went pale.
“Hey, Russ, what’s the matter? You look like you’ve seen a ghost,” his friend said.
Elly suddenly felt bold. She fixed her gaze on Russ, daring him to look away. “
He walked away without a scratch,
” her dad had told her. “
It was an accident. An accident,
” Russ’s eyes said to her across the distance of twenty feet.
Elly watched Russ shove his hands into his pockets and turn away. He began to jog away from the bench and his friends.
“Wait up, man! What’s the matter with you, Canton?” one friend called out.
Elly followed Russ with her glaring eyes until he disappeared into the crowd. Suddenly, she felt very sick to her stomach.
“Sorry it took so long, but the line was a mile long.” Joy offered Elly the root beer. Elly just stared at it. The ice had melted and a film of brownish water pooled at the top of the cup.
“I hate warm root beer,” she grumbled, knocking the cup from Joy’s outstretched hand. The liquid splashed all over the tile and up the side of the planter. “Can’t you do anything right? Don’t you know that I hate warm root beer?” Elly thrust her crutches under her arms and limped away. Joy just stared, open-mouthed, at her retreating friend.
An eighty-mile-an-hour fastball. A forty-mile-an-hour car. Statistics. Two lived and one died. Statistics. One was hurt and one was unscratched. Statistics.
Elly held back the tears until she reached the nearest restroom.
* * * *
“You look cute, honey. Doesn’t Elly look cute, Mike?” Mrs. Rowan asked as Elly stood in the living room, ready for the dance.
Elly’s father lowered the newspaper and took a swift glance at Elly. “Fine. Just fine.”
Elly felt disappointed. He’d hardly seen her. Now, if it had been Kathy. . .
A knock on the door meant Kenny had arrived. Elly hurried out, grateful that he’d come to take her away. She decided that Kenny looked terrific in his khaki pants and navy blue sweater. He told her she looked good, too, in spite of the cast and crutches.
At the cafeteria entrance, Elly felt a momentary wave of uncertainty. Kenny gripped her elbow, helping her through the door and into the dance. Plants and flowers lined the pale green walls. Baskets of flowers sat in the center of each table. Daisy chains hung from the ceiling and met in the center of the cafeteria. Overhead a crystal light spun and threw specks of rainbows onto the dancers below. A DJ, half hidden by a wall of greenery, played CDs from the old stage.
Kenny made the rounds, saying hello to his friends. Elly tagged along, wishing she were happier about being here. She saw Joy and waved. Joy smiled and Elly was relieved that she’d forgiven her for the root beer episode. Joy had understood her reaction to seeing Russ Canton again. Joy was a good friend.
“Do you—uh—you think you could dance a little bit?” Kenny’s question caused Elly to snap out of her sad mood.
“I thought you said you couldn’t dance,” she answered.
“Well, nothing fancy. But I can fake it through this slow song.”
Elly’s heart pounded as Kenny took her crutches and slanted them against the wall. He held her hand, slipped his arms around her waist, and touched his forehead to hers. Elly put her arms over his shoulders and closed her eyes. The two of them swayed slightly to the slow beat of the music. The cast weighed Elly down, but also kept her leg from shaking.
” Elly desperately searched for Joy. Where was she? Why didn’t she hurry? The scent of flowers faded. Elly recalled the tingling bite of Russ’s aftershave and the smooth upholstery beneath the palm of her hand.
“Come on. We’d better get a move on or we’ll be late to the field.”
Elly spun, hiding her face. Her cast bumped her crutches, and they clattered to the tile floor. She reached for them, forcing down the panic in her throat. As she righted herself, her hazel eyes met Russ’s green ones. The image of Kathy Rowan flared between them. They both went pale.
“Hey, Russ, what’s the matter? You look like you’ve seen a ghost,” his friend said.
Elly suddenly felt bold. She fixed her gaze on Russ, daring him to look away. “
He walked away without a scratch,
” her dad had told her. “
It was an accident. An accident,
” Russ’s eyes said to her across the distance of twenty feet.
Elly watched Russ shove his hands into his pockets and turn away. He began to jog away from the bench and his friends.
“Wait up, man! What’s the matter with you, Canton?” one friend called out.
Elly followed Russ with her glaring eyes until he disappeared into the crowd. Suddenly, she felt very sick to her stomach.
“Sorry it took so long, but the line was a mile long.” Joy offered Elly the root beer. Elly just stared at it. The ice had melted and a film of brownish water pooled at the top of the cup.
“I hate warm root beer,” she grumbled, knocking the cup from Joy’s outstretched hand. The liquid splashed all over the tile and up the side of the planter. “Can’t you do anything right? Don’t you know that I hate warm root beer?” Elly thrust her crutches under her arms and limped away. Joy just stared, open-mouthed, at her retreating friend.
An eighty-mile-an-hour fastball. A forty-mile-an-hour car. Statistics. Two lived and one died. Statistics. One was hurt and one was unscratched. Statistics.
Elly held back the tears until she reached the nearest restroom.
* * * *
“You look cute, honey. Doesn’t Elly look cute, Mike?” Mrs. Rowan asked as Elly stood in the living room, ready for the dance.
Elly’s father lowered the newspaper and took a swift glance at Elly. “Fine. Just fine.”
Elly felt disappointed. He’d hardly seen her. Now, if it had been Kathy. . .
A knock on the door meant Kenny had arrived. Elly hurried out, grateful that he’d come to take her away. She decided that Kenny looked terrific in his khaki pants and navy blue sweater. He told her she looked good, too, in spite of the cast and crutches.
At the cafeteria entrance, Elly felt a momentary wave of uncertainty. Kenny gripped her elbow, helping her through the door and into the dance. Plants and flowers lined the pale green walls. Baskets of flowers sat in the center of each table. Daisy chains hung from the ceiling and met in the center of the cafeteria. Overhead a crystal light spun and threw specks of rainbows onto the dancers below. A DJ, half hidden by a wall of greenery, played CDs from the old stage.
Kenny made the rounds, saying hello to his friends. Elly tagged along, wishing she were happier about being here. She saw Joy and waved. Joy smiled and Elly was relieved that she’d forgiven her for the root beer episode. Joy had understood her reaction to seeing Russ Canton again. Joy was a good friend.
“Do you—uh—you think you could dance a little bit?” Kenny’s question caused Elly to snap out of her sad mood.
“I thought you said you couldn’t dance,” she answered.
“Well, nothing fancy. But I can fake it through this slow song.”
Elly’s heart pounded as Kenny took her crutches and slanted them against the wall. He held her hand, slipped his arms around her waist, and touched his forehead to hers. Elly put her arms over his shoulders and closed her eyes. The two of them swayed slightly to the slow beat of the music. The cast weighed Elly down, but also kept her leg from shaking.
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